


Heat Wave

by Jo (jmathieson)



Series: Tangents and Intersections ~ Kink Bingo 2013 [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bodily Fluids, Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Pre-Slash, Sweat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:39:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jmathieson/pseuds/Jo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Bodily Fluids</p>
    </blockquote>





	Heat Wave

**Author's Note:**

> Kink Bingo Round Six (2013) ~ Bodily Fluids

Clint carries his selections up to the cash and puts them down on the counter of the tiny, middle-of-nowhere gas station next to Coulson's. Coulson has picked up two gallons of water, two bottles of orange juice (for himself) and two bottles of blue-flavor Gatorade (for Clint). Clint grins a little as he adds two Snickers bars (for himself) and a box of almond-cranberry granola bars (for Coulson). Coulson pays for the snacks, water, and gas with his SHIELD credit card, and they head back out to the car. 

Clint opens the car door and pauses, steeling himself for the onslaught of heat before climbing in.

"Even if we had the time to stop and get the air conditioning fixed, there's nowhere..." Coulson doesn't bother to finish the sentence.

"I know... we've survived worse." It says something about the work they've been doing together for the past four years that the smell of Coulson's sweat is just as familiar to Clint as his aftershave. He's about to climb into the car when Coulson does something Clint's never seen before. He'd taken off his suit jacket at the beginning of the trip, laying it on the back seat of the car so it wouldn't get wrinkled - normal procedure for Coulson when they were going to be driving for hours. But Coulson strips off his tie, and tosses it into the back, on top of the jacket. Then he unbuttons his collar and the next two buttons, exposing a triangle of thin dark chest hair, matted with sweat, and rolls his shirt sleeves up to his elbows.

Clint briefly considers stripping off his sodden t-shirt, but a moment's calculation of sweaty back plus rental car upholstery stops him.

'Besides,' he thinks, 'It's the jeans that are the real problem, and much as I'd love to take them off, I don't think Coulson would appreciate me sitting next to him in my skivvies for the next two hours.' Not that it would be a first, but there were... extenuating circumstances that time. No, Clint didn't need to push his reputation as a smartass quite that far. Not today. Not yet. Not unless it got hotter, in which case all bets (and possibly clothes) were off...

Coulson finishes rolling up his sleeves and climbs back into the car, and Clint does the same with a sigh.

As they ease back onto the highway, Clint lets his head loll back against the seat, staring at nothing. Until movement in his peripheral vision catches his eye and he turns his head a fraction to the left to see it properly.

It's a single bead of sweat, trickling slowly down the side of Phil Coulson's face. It started high in his hairline, just in front of his ear, where the short hairs were already plastered to the side of his head with sweat. It trickles slowly, gradually down, inching past Phil's ear. Coulson either can't feel it or is too hot and tired to be bothered to wipe it away. Clint is transfixed. He can't turn his head away from the sight, as if it's something private and perverted that he knows he shouldn't be watching, but can't stop himself. As the droplet makes its way down past Phil's ear and pauses, trembling slightly at the line of his jaw, Clint has to stop himself from leaning over to lick it off. 

That makes him turn his head and close his eyes, but not before he's had a flash of an image: Coulson above him, fucking him hard, sweating, and Coulson's... Phil's sweat dripping down onto him as he's being pounded, fucked deep and hard and... Clint clenches his jaw and makes a point of not shaking his head as he forcibly turns his thoughts away from that particular image. He very carefully makes it look like a completely normal, natural stretch as he re-adjusts his legs in the hot, sticky passenger seat to try to ease the pressure on his half-hard cock. 

'It's not like he... or even I... I mean, he's Coulson. And yeah, I think he's kinda hot, in his own way, but it's not like... although I'm pretty sure he's gay. Shit. That is so never, ever going to happen, so I can just stop thinking about it right now.'

Clint leans back further in his seat, staring straight out the front window, consciously regulating his breathing and waiting for his dick to lose interest. He has almost succeeded in falling asleep when there's another tiny movement in his peripheral vision, and his eyes flick to the left before he can consciously stop them. Another bead of sweat has just started its journey down the side of Coulson's face, and this time Clint gives up. He watches it, memorizing the image and filing it away for later, when he will have some privacy in a hotel room with air conditioning, and a bed with cool, clean sheets.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks always to my patient and understanding editor t!
> 
> Find me on Tumblr at: [Queen of Wands](http://jmathieson-fic.tumblr.com/)


End file.
